


The  War Is Over And We Are...

by Hecate



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, M/M, Not quite a fix-it, Pining, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 22:47:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14412156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hecate/pseuds/Hecate
Summary: After they beat Thanos, Steve and Tony muddle through what is left of their relationship.





	The  War Is Over And We Are...

It's quiet in the days after Thanos' defeat, quiet and still, and Steve wonders if the world felt like this after the end of World War II: Life on hold, too exhausted to go on and not ready to be filled with relief and hope. It's strange, this feeling, a stalemate between fear and the future, people still talking in hushed voices and looking up to the skies with worry, looking up to the skies and closing their eyes to enjoy the sun. He doesn't know what will follow after, doesn't know how much of this blank state the world can take.

How much he can.

~*~

Tony is bent over one of his suits, hands busy with circuitry and metal parts and more things Steve gave up understanding not too long after he met Tony for the first time.

Maybe he had given up understanding Tony then, too.

Tony was, after all, Iron Man.

He waits until Tony notices him, until he turns around to look at Steve. It's been a long time since they shared space like this, without Tony in a suit, without a battle on the horizon or surrounding them.

They haven't talked since Thanos fell.

“I'm glad you're okay,” Steve says to Tony.

Tony smiles, and it's horrible. “But I'm not.”

Steve breathes, nods. He never knows how to deal with Tony's honesty. He wishes he could just reach out, could touch the lines of Tony’s shoulders. “Alive, then.”

Tony looks at him for a very long time. Then: “You, too.”

Steve thinks of ceasefires, then, thinks of soldiers throwing snowballs at each other across enemy lines and singing Christmas songs in the freezing darkness. He almost tells Tony that he missed him.

~*~

Tony has plans for rebuilding New York once again, has plans about rebuilding the world. Shuri has them, too, and the two of them have turned into an idea-spitting machine, huddled together in Shuri's labs, throwing around words that no one but them and Bruce understands.

Steve tells himself not to worry, tells himself that there won't be another Ultron in the future, at least not one built by Tony's hands. He tells himself to trust Tony with this, like he maybe should have done when it came to Bucky. But he's not sure that he can, not sure if he wants to or could even learn to.

He hopes Tony will never find out. He would never forgive Steve.

~*~

"The boss went up, up and away," Friday had told him when he had first returned to the Compound during Thanos' attack, her voice dreamy.

It had scared Steve.

~*~

“I talked to Barnes,” Tony says.

Steve freezes. Looks at Tony.

“I'm not gonna rip his arm off again. If you're worried about that,” Tony says, and Steve thinks that Tony might consider the grimace on his face a smile.

Steve knows better. He still remembers what Tony looked like when he was happy.

Days later, Steve sees them together, Bucky at Tony's side, both of them looking at a computer screen. There's not much of a distance between them, even less when Tony raises his arm to point at something before turning to Bucky and poking at the shoulder of his metal arm.

It's a quiet scene, an easy one, and Steve thinks that they look comfortable. He's glad for them.

And he tries not to think about Tony taking a step back whenever Steve comes too close.

~*~

There's a rumour about Hydra agents hiding away in one of Wakanda's neighbouring countries, and Steve thinks of telling Tony, thinks of telling T'challa. And doesn't. Instead, he takes one of the dirt bikes they keep at the palace despite Shuri's insane tech, and he drives into the night.

Hydra hurt Bucky, Hydra killed Tony's parents.

Steve will take care of this.

He finds them easily enough because the rumours came from Natasha's sources, and she always knew how to find the right people for her information, she has always been terrifyingly good at figuring out which bread crumbs would lead to the witch's house.

He finds them, and he plans his attack carefully, methodically, giving himself time. Still, he's on his own, and the fight becomes chaotic, becomes almost too dangerous, bullets lashing over his body, leaving bleeding lines, a fire breaking out suddenly and circling them all, a prison of heat and flames.

For a moment, he regrets not telling the others, for a moment he misses the presence of someone else on the battlefield. But he pushes it away, forces himself to focus on his enemies instead of his allies. 

He couldn't pull the others into this, not after everything that happened after Ross came to them with the Accords. He couldn't endanger them like this again, no matter how often he spoke of doing things together.

_Together_ died in some bunker in Russia.

So he fights on his own, fast punches and hard kicks, and when the fire comes too close, he jumps through it like a circus lion, shades of red dancing all around him. The agents try to follow him. Only two make it. Things are easier, after that.

He returns to Wakanda with two tied Hydra agents in tow. At night, he dreams of returning home with Bucky by his side, Tony greeting them with a smirk.

~*~

There had been a moment when they faced Thanos when Tony had stumbled, had gone to his knees, and Steve couldn't breathe, could only watch as Tony fought to stand up again, to move, to duck under the debris of a building Thanos threw at him. It had been awful, that moment, terrifying, and Steve still thinks of it when it's too quiet and he doesn't know where Tony is.

He wants to get up then, wants to go looking for Tony. Just to make sure, just so he can sleep.

He never does. He forces himself to lie still in the darkness, forces himself to let the distance between Tony and he be for just another night. He'll see him in the morning. Everything will be just fine.

~*~

The UN isn't ready to forgive Steve and the others, to just let go of what they did in Germany, to take them off their watchlist.

"You would think saving the world was enough," Clint says, and he sounds bitter, angry.

Steve shrugs. "They are making a point."

"A point that keeps me from my family," Clint answers.

Steve squeezes his shoulders. "Tony is working on it."

Clint raises his eyebrows at him, and Steve isn't sure if it's amusement on his face or something else, something sharper. "Do you really think he is trying all that hard?"

Steve wants to protest, wants to remind Clint of everything Tony has done for them. But there are still the things that Tony has done to them, there's also the anger and the distrust between all of them. So he smiles at Clint and says, "I hope so," and he tries not to think about Tony selling them out or giving up on them.

~*~

He dreams of Siberia sometimes, dreams of Tony's words, his voice so small, so broken. He wakes up before the fighting starts most nights, wakes up before he hurts Tony, and he's grateful for it.

He doesn't fall asleep again on nights like this, stares at the ceiling and tries not to remember the sound of his shield hitting Tony's suit.

But he does.

~*~

Tony is coming and going these days, switching between New York and Wakanda, and his suit hitting the ground outside of T'challa's palace has turned into a familiar sight. Still, Steve can't get enough of it, he never could, seeing Tony like this, in control, powerful. It's beautiful.

He spends most of his time with T'challa or Shuri, talking politics or talking science, and it's strange to have him this close again and yet so rarely talking with him.

"He avoids us all," Sam says when Steve mentions it.

Steve nods. "I know. It's just..." A deep breath and he looks away.

"You miss him," Sam says.

"Yeah," Steve admits.

~*~

After the mess with Ultron, Tony had stayed away from them for a while. Steve hadn't noticed, not at first, too busy with building a new team to think of the old. But that didn't last forever, only lasted a few weeks, and when he finally noticed the new absence in his life, it had felt bitter and heavy.

"Don't do that," he had said to Tony once he had made his way to the Tower.

Tony had just looked at him, always patient when Steve didn't want him to be.

"You're avoiding us," Steve had finally said.

A media smile on Tony's face then, all white teeth and perfect shape. "I'm just giving you time to whip the newbies into shape."

"And I'm not buying your bullshit," Steve had replied.

Surprised laughter, and Tony had offered him a drink, had ordered food for them. It had been almost like old times, the two of them hanging out, and Steve still remembers the warmth of Tony's body pressed against his side.

Back then, he had thought of new beginnings.

~*~

Tony brings them home.

~*~

There's new graffiti close to the coffee shop in New York that Steve always used to go before things fell apart, before the UN made him a villain, before he made himself one. It shows Iron Man in flight, the details and colours pulling Steve in, and it's amazingly beautiful.

 _Hero_ is written beneath it, and Steve agrees, has agreed ever since Tony flew into space to save New York, and he's glad that people see it, glad that they scream it into the world with paint and colour. He takes a picture of the picture, turns it into his phone’s background. And resolutely doesn't think about what that means.

~*~

Steve finds Tony in his lab, blueprints lighting up the room, rock music playing surprisingly low.

“You didn't use all your firepower,” Steve says, and it's been on his mind for too long, a thought that wanted to break through all these bitter memories. “In Siberia, when we were fighting."

Tony turns to him. Stares.

"You didn't,” Steve insists.

Tony's face is blank, unreadable, and Steve hates it, wants to see something there that he can understand, wants to see meaning there and softness.

Finally, Tony shrugs. “Bunker could have collapsed in on us ... me.”

Steve smiles. “Yeah, that.”

And he lets Tony be, doesn't point out that Iron Man had a greater chance to survive a building collapsing than he and Bucky had, doesn't point out that Tony would have survived when they didn't. Just keeps this knowledge close to himself, this certainty that Tony cared about him even in that moment.

Steve tells himself that this distance between them now, it won't last.

~*~

Tony's PR team takes one look at Bucky, one look at each other, and one of them grins. "Easy." Then, they take Bucky with them. Steve worries. But he always worries when it comes to Bucky, and he doubts he'll ever stop.

He worries about Tony, too.

When Bucky comes back, his hair is short, a copy of what it used to look like, and Steve can't stop staring at him, at this almost vision of the past.

"You look good," he finally says.

Bucky shrugs. "Don't quite feel like myself like this," he says, and the words are painful, are a reminder of what they both lost. Steve doesn't want to think about it.

A few days later, the PR team returns, this time bringing uniforms with them, and they dress up Bucky as if he was a doll. One of them takes a step back, looks at him critically, and says, "Would work better without the arm."

Steve wants to punch him, wants to rage against their carelessness, against the reckless way they treat Bucky. But he doesn't, because Tony is leaning against the wall, Tony is watching them, and there's something on his face that reins Steve in.

"Just cover the arm up," Tony says. "It unsettles people. And we don't want that in a hearing."

A nod, a shrug. "Maybe he can hide it behind his back. That's the standing to attention thingy, right?"

Bucky laughs.

Steve isn't sure if Bucky really thought that the words were funny.

~*~

They are arguing again, Tony and he, about the Accords, about Bucky, the same repetition of a sad story, and Steve doesn't even know how it started this time around.

"Rhodey wouldn't run," Tony says, and there is so much certainty in his voice, so much strength.

And Steve thinks that Tony is right, thinks that Rhodey would face everything head on, never turning his back on it, even if he thinks that the judge is crooked and the game is rigged. And he would lose his life for it.

Tony goes on, "And I would be on his side, getting him the best lawyers."

Steve nods. "I know. But there was no time for that, they were after him and I... Tony, I _couldn't_."

Tony looks at him, sighs, and he takes a step towards Steve, and Steve can't remember the last time he did that. "You didn't try to do anything about it later," he says, but there's no accusation in his words, his voice the calm after the storm.

Steve shrugs, half-helpless, and says, "I didn't know how. I just wanted him safe."

"Yeah," Tony agrees. Then, "You should have told me. Before. I'm the one responsible for spinning shit into gold."

Steve snorts, sobers up quickly. "Would you have done that? For Bucky?"

Tony looks away, his eyes distant, and Steve wants to know what he's thinking about. If it's that road and Bucky's hand on his mother's skin, if it's Bucky and Hydra and what they did to him. "If you had given me a chance to deal with what he did? I hope so."

Steve swallows, his hands turning to fists at his sides. "But I didn't."

A soft smile, Tony stepping away again. "Yeah, you didn't."

~*~

Tony is training with Natasha, his punches and kicks powerful but not smooth, not perfect. Still, Steve can see Natasha's influence in his fighting style, can see his own. For some reason it makes him proud, makes him possessive of something he can't own, and it's an uncomfortable feeling. He tries to ignore it but can't, staring at them, walking closer.

"Your stance needs improvement," he says, and suddenly he's next to Tony, is close enough to kick his feet into a new position.

Tony flinches away, ruining his stance.

Natasha raises an eyebrow at Steve. "I got this, Cap," she says, and he knows he's supposed to walk away, is supposed to give Tony space.

But he can't. He leans against the wall instead, and he watches as Tony and Natasha trade blows, finding a rhythm without him.

~*~

The UN calls Iron Man in for a mission and Tony goes.

He's not alone. War Machine goes with him, and Steve watches them leave in a Quintjet, and he thinks of the leash that's wrapped around Tony and Rhodey, thinks of being left behind while they throw themselves into danger.

It's everything he never wanted for the Avengers.

And it's all they have now.

~*~

Monday morning, and Tony looks at him with bleary eyes, his hands holding on to a cup of coffee with manic intensity.

"Did you sleep?" Steve asks, because he knows that look, he knows what the answer will be.

"Nope. Science called out to me and science was loud," Tony answers.

"Tell science to sleep in and to dream of flying cars," Steve says, and Tony gives him a quick grin. 

It's familiar, this moment, it's how it used to be, and for a few seconds Steve thinks that it will last. 

Then, Tony's smile fades away.

~*~

Tony stands in front of him, his face blank, and he has the shield in his hands. Steve's shield, Howard's shield, and he isn't sure he wants it back.

"Tony," he says, and he wants to say 'You don't have to', wants to step closer and reach out. But Tony has the shield in his hands and the last time Steve used it, he used it on Tony. So he keeps still, stands still, and he waits for Tony to do something, anything.

Tony keeps on looking at him.

"Are you okay?" Steve asks, and he isn't surprised when Tony shrugs.

"It's yours," Tony says then, and Steve almost starts arguing but doesn't. It's Tony's decision, not his, no matter if Howard gave the shield to him years and decades ago. He's not that man anymore, after all, and the Captain that Howard put his trust and his time in is long gone.

"Okay," he says, and he almost expects Tony to just let the shield fall to the ground, expects him to walk away after.

But Tony comes to him and pushes the shield against Steve's chest, handing it over like the world's strangest security blanket. Steve takes it. The shield is a familiar weight in his hands, it's a reassurance, a lost part of himself found again.

"Thank you," he says.

Tony nods. And doesn't step away.

~*~

Tony lingers after a meeting, nervous energy wrapped all around him. Steve waits him out, forces himself to keep his eyes on the report in his hands, forces himself to give Tony space. He has gotten better with that.

"Where are you with your list?" Tony suddenly asks. "The catch-up list," he explains a moment later.

"Didn't have time for it for quite a while," Steve says, confused. 

Tony smiles, and it's a bit wistful, and it's a bit sad. But it's a smile nevertheless, and Steve has started to hoard the memories of every single one Tony gave him after Siberia.

"Why do you ask?" Steve says.

A careless shrug, and Tony says, "I thought we could watch a movie today."

Steve stares. Says, "Oh," and feels giddy, feels surprised, feels younger and more awkward than he is. "Sounds good," he hurries to add when Tony raises an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah," Tony agrees.

Later, they come together in one of the common rooms, Tony armed with beer bottles, Steve bringing the popcorn. He lets Tony choose the movie, closes his eyes when Tony selects it on the screen. It's an old routine, going into Tony's movies blind, not knowing the title and genre, not knowing what to expect.

When he opens his eyes, Tony is watching him. 

They start smiling at the same time.

~*~

Steve still hasn't signed the Accords. He can't, and he needs Tony to understand this, needs Tony to _see_ that the Accords are dangerous, too dangerous, and he can't risk people with it.

“Agendas change,” Steve says, the words disgustingly familiar in his mouth.

Tony shrugs. "Sure they do. But so do people. Sometimes even for the better."

He smiles then, and it's too bright, too cheerful, too obviously faked, and Steve has to look away.

"I don't understand what you want from me, Steve," Tony goes on. "I'm trying my best to get people to listen to us, to get them to revise this thing, to make it better. So tell me, _What do you want from me?_ "

And Steve thinks, 'I need you on my side,' and it's selfish because Tony sees things differently, and it's dumb because Tony _is_ on his side. He bites his lips, looks away. "I don't know," he says, and maybe he means 'I want you.'

A frustrated huff, Tony shaking his head. "You better find out."

~*~

These are the things they don't talk about:

Tony had kissed him a few hours after they destroyed Ultron, his mouth hard and desperate on Steve's, his hands digging into his waist. Steve had pushed him away. 

He hasn't forgiven himself for that yet.

Steve had used that flip phone once before Thanos came. It had been night in Wakanda and he had been in the room with Bucky's cryo chamber, sitting on the ground, staring at his best friend. Tony hadn't answered. Steve likes to tell himself that Tony hadn't heard the phone ringing.

Tony forgave Bucky for his parents but he didn't forgive Steve for lying to him. And Steve, Steve isn't sure he wouldn't make the same choices all over again if he had the chance. For Bucky and against the world. 

Steve might love Tony.

Tony might love him back.

Sometimes Steve thinks that this won't get them anywhere.

~*~

He's in Tony's lab again, watching him. Tony ignores him. He used to do that before things fell apart, too, and Steve never minded it back then. He tries not to care now. But he does.

It's been a bad night for him, had been a bad night for Bucky, the two of them running into each other in the kitchen, nightmares still on their minds, hands still shaking. They are not good for each other like that, are rattling against each other like skeletons, brittle reminders of the past. So Bucky went to the shooting range. 

And Steve went to Tony.

"What do you want, Tony?" he asks, breaking the silence between them with sharp words, and it's an echo of another conversation.

Tony turns to him, frowns. "What?"

Steve snorts, repeats the question. Waits for Tony to remember his own words, waits for him to give him an answer he can live with.

Tony looks at him, a considering stare, and Steve wants them to be better at talking with each other for once, wants Tony to know the answer when Steve doesn't. 

"I want to forgive you," Tony finally says, and for a moment all the distances between them fade away. "I just have to figure out how."

And it's a sharp hope that hits Steve, and it's not quite what he wants it to be. It has too many edges and too many uncertainties. But it's hope. "I..." he begins, and he falters, as unsure about his words as he is about this moment. He breathes in. Then: "I really hope you will."

Tony smiles, and it's brief, but it's real. "Yeah," he says. "Me, too."

~*~

Bucky's hearing feels unreal, the ease of it impossible.

There are accusations, there are worries, there's hatred on the faces of the people listening, on the faces of the people waiting for them outside.

But there's Tony, too. 

Tony standing strong, speaking of his parents, his words heavy hitters when he talks about his father, softer when he talks about his mother. There's Tony, telling the world that he doesn't blame Bucky for what happened.

Outside, the world goes crazy.

Between the walls of the building, they decide to let Bucky go.

And for a moment, a single moment unhinged from time, Steve thinks he might get to have it all. 

It's an impossible idea.

~*~

The mission is a dumb mistake, like the one not too long ago. And Steve knows that he shouldn't have gone on his own again, knows that this had always been a mission for more than just one person, supersoldier or not. But the UN still distrusts them, and the country didn't want them in, and Steve sometimes holds on to his mistakes and his fears as if they were something worth keeping.

Maybe he's like Tony when it comes to that.

Neither of them was ever good with letting go.

He had been shot only moments after he made his way into the building, a sharp shooter getting him from the outside, shards of glass hitting Steve, leaving behind small, burning cuts. The bullet never left his body. It's a terrible feeling, that piece of metal inside of him, and it sets Steve on edge, makes him so much more weary that he would ever admit to himself.

The ground is littered with bodies, attackers that he knocked out, men that he killed, and it fills him with some ugly satisfaction, and it urges him on. They were well-trained. And there are still so many of them left.

They force him up the building, shots and grenades cutting away the escape routes that lead downstairs, and Steve runs up as fast as he can, firing into the stairwell whenever he can. It's a dangerous route to take, it's a choice that could easily get him killed, but it's the only way that remains open.

He explodes out of the exit on the roof with guns blazing, scattering the expanse with wide shots before homing in on the thugs waiting for him. Most of them fall easily. But not all of them, not enough.

It really is the worst place for a last stand.

And Steve thinks, for a glaringly painful moment, that he might never find out if Tony could forgive him. 

And it hurts, this thought, hurts because he let Tony down and now that won't ever change. Hurts, because Tony has let him down, too, and Steve always hoped that they would figure things out some day.

He can't give up on that.

So Steve forces steel and determination into his body, breathes in and tells himself that he will survive this. 

He throws himself into the fight, getting punches in, lashing out with kicks, throwing the shield in sharp curves. He grabs guns from the bodies on the ground, spraying the roof with bullets again and again, a sharp staccato of death. And in between it all, between impacts and pulling back, he thinks he could win this.

Then, he sees the helicopter.

It's fast and it's big, an ugly machine of death, the dreams of flight perverted into something terrible. And Steve knows that he won't make it to the roof exit in time, knows that there are too many attackers between himself and that small promise of safety.

He knows that this will be the end.

Steve whispers an apology into the sky, thinks of Bucky and Tony and everybody else. He knows it won't reach them, thinks they might not find out about his death for a while. It's almost funny, and there's sharp laughter that wants to break out of his mouth. He always thought he wouldn't die alone. 

He hears Tony before he sees him, the sound of the repulsors ingrained in his very being, and Steve laughs for real then, laughs with relief and triumph and a bit of amusement, too. He should have expected this, he thinks, should have known, because Tony loves dramatic entrances and Tony might love him, too, and he always comes for the people he cares about. 

He runs to the edge of the building, firing bullets as he goes, and somehow he makes it, somehow he reaches the place where solid ground gives way to freefall. Steve stops there, and he turns, sees the thugs still coming for him.

And Steve thinks 'together,' and he takes a step back, smiling at the thugs with bloody lips. 

Then, he lets himself fall.


End file.
